Prima Facie
by muentiger
Summary: Entry 3 for SkyeElf's Challenge of the Week! Luna is really not who you think she is, and Blaise has made the mistake of crossing her once too often. A Dark Mark graces her arm, and he is meant to be the one who never speaks. She is the exception. OOC.


**A/N: Hey guys! Another entry for SkyeElf's challenge of the week, even if it is a tad late. The prompt called for a Blaise/Luna fic, either in the genre of Drama or Angst. For those of you who know me, you can already tell why it took me so long. Angst is not my forte. There is a tad of Romance to garnish this little one-shot, but I warn thee, it is not a happy ending. Luna is completely OOC, and Blaise only slightly so. The title, Prima Facie, is a Latin saying, meaning, "At first sight." Without further ado, I give my thanks to SkyeElf, and present my shambles of a story to you.**

_The hottest places in hell are reserved for those who, in time of great moral crisis, maintain their neutrality. -Dante Alighieri_

They chose me because I would never be suspected.

It had been a warm day in July. Father had fallen asleep over an article on Furgies, and I had decided to take a short walk.

Even in times of darkness, there was light. The sun still shone, the grass still waved and the birds still crowded around me when I sat, hoping for a morsel of bread. I had everything I could hope for, but my dream had not been fulfilled.

He had been waiting for me, his dark skin glinting against the sunlight. Despite the heat, he had been wearing long black robes, and a silver mask lay beside his hands.

I should have know then.

The days that followed were the most awful of my life. Every morning, I'd slip Father a dose of the Draught of the Living Dead, leaving him to sleep until my return. He knew not of what I had done. I was his innocent little girl, his ray of sunshine.

He never suspected that I'd kill him.

Blaise would take me to the Manor, never speaking a word. The others called him the Internuncio, the envoy. He was the one assigned to recruit people like me, who would prove most valuable to the Dark Lord.

One week later, I received my Dark Mark. The skull and the snake would grace my arm forever, marking me as one of _them. _Tears streamed silently down my face as Blaise flew me home that evening. Not out of pain, not out of fear, but out of joy. All I ever wanted was to change the world. The Dark Lord had given me my chance, and I would die before throwing that away.

That was the first time he spoke.

As we landed in that meadow where I had first met him, he pulled me into his arms, letting me weep onto his chest.

"The pain goes away, _cara mia._ Don't let it dictate who you are," he whispered into my ear, his deep voice tinged with a thick accent.

A second later, he was gone.

The letters continued to fly in, from former friends and true allies alike. I did not care from who they were from, I would respond with all my heart. As long as my dream came true, I didn't care.

For weeks, he remained silent, but it was in the other things that I learned who he was. The way he'd hold himself while flying, and the way he'd smile surreptitiously when I contradicted my old Potions Professor. I had discovered his secret before anyone else.

Severus Snape was my first kill.

He had gone without a fight, though he hadn't much choice. I preferred to kill indirectly, simply giving the victim the opportunity to commit suicide. The Imperius curse.

He had been easy to replace. Another Death Eater assumed his identity the next hour.

The summer drew to a close, and my second assignment arrived. My father had to be killed.

I did so without thinking twice. A flick of my wand was all it took for him to hang himself from the staircase like a puppet.

That was the first time I spoke to him.

"Why do you never speak?" I asked one night, once we had returned to Hogwarts. He had kept up his habit of accompanying me as I returned. As his job required.

"There is nothing to say," he replied, his eyes never meeting mine.

"That's not true. There is much to say, but few who are brave enough to say it," I told him absentmindedly, more focused on the scorch marks that littered the walls from years of bering torches.

The silence was broken by a deep chuckle, and I turned to realise it was my companion who was doing so, his messy hair falling over his mesmerising eyes.

"Alright, then. Tell me, _cara_, why did you switch sides?" he inquired, leaning against the wall casually. It was the first time I had seen him relax, and it took me off guard.

"On the light side, you fight to return the world to the way it was before. In order to change the world, one has to be part of the side fighting against that return. I may not necessarily agree with your views, but if my ends justify your means, who am I to refuse?" I answered simply, toying with the necklace around my neck. For a brief instant, I could swear I spotted his eyes drifting to where the necklace ended, but they disappeared again.

"Why did you join?" I finally said, and his lips pursed at my inquiry.

"My father was a cruel man. He would take great pleasure in making sure I had no power as a child. The second someone offered me the chance to escape, to show him my true power, I accepted," he admitted, looking away from me as he said it.

"Why do you care?" he spat at me, and I shrugged in response.

"Every person has a story to tell, and it is in our decisions that we reveal who we truly are. It is how I knew that Snape was a traitor, and it is how I know that we will lose," I conceded, twirling a lock of my hair around my finger.

"We will not lose," he stated, more to convince himself than to convince me.

"I am never wrong," I replied, and his eyes narrowed dangerously. In the blink of an eye, I was pinned against the wall, my wand clattering to the ground.

"If you say that we will lose, how do we have any hope of winning? Of living a life beyond this hell?" he growled, and I gazed up at him with big eyes.

"Our side misunderstands the notion of winning. We may win the war, and never truly succeed in our mission. Or we may lose the war, and have taught everyone the true meaning of being magical," I whispered, my breath creating a dense cloud of steam in the cool night air.

He remained silent for a while, simply looking at me apprehensively. My back began to stiffen somewhat, and I tried to move out of his grip. It was to no avail.

"Could you please-" I began, but was silenced by the feel of his lips on mine. He worked frantically, maddeningly, as though he was a dying man and I was his last breath of air. My body felt like fire as I gasped, and he took the opportunity to delve further, his mouth keeping complete control over mine. I could feel his tongue roaming the deep cavern of my mouth, trying to sway me into reciprocating.

I let myself go, for once in my life.

We parted ways as the sun rose, not speaking a word to one another.

As the months passed, I saw him often, though he seemed not to be aware of my existence. He regretted it, I could see it in his eyes.

The Battle was here.

For hours, the castle was a battlefield, the bodies of the dead thrown to the side after they were dealt with. The fools of the Order willingly let me into their ranks, allowing me to dispose of them with a meagre flick of my wand.

Shacklebolt, Lupin, Finnegan, Weasley-they all died at my hand.

I did not know who I was murdering anymore, whether they were allies or enemies did not matter. Where I went, death and destruction followed like a loyal puppy.

I should not have headed into the Great Hall.

He was fighting there, his face glistening with sweat as he attempted to defeat three or four highly trained Aurors.

My blood boiled at the sight, and I lunged forward, cursing mutely as I went along.

They were dead in an instant.

He did not say anything. That was his first mistake.

"Why are you not talking to me?" I asked, my wand poised at his throat. Perhaps I'd regret killing him, but regret is temporary. Glory, victory; those last forever.

"There is nothing to say," he replied simply, highly reminiscent of the night when he had taken me.

"That is not possible. Your eyes say everything for you regardless of your silence. You regret it-" I began, but the look on his face quieted me fairly quickly.

"I can never regret it. You see everything, in everybody, but you do not see how I feel. I loved you, from the minute I set eyes on you. To me, you were perfect. That night, with you, was pure magic. But not even you can see the monster you have become. Look around, _cara. _Those are the bodies of your friends, your family. They died here tonight because you betrayed them. The old Luna would have never done that. I'd give my life to know what has changed," he stated, placing his hands on either side of my face.

Traitor. He did not believe in the cause, in me.

"The world is full of good, so what difference would another good person make? The ends justify the means, and that is all that matters," I told him, and he flinched, removing his hands from my face.

"I see. Goodbye, _cara,_" he whispered, but was immobilised with a mindless wave of my wand.

"You misunderstand, Blaise. I have given you your request, but that comes with a price. I'm afraid I'll have to kill you," I said, and his eyes darted around in their sockets.

Placing a small kiss on his forehead, I cast the curse, and, in a flash of green, the life left his body.

I do not know, to this day, whether we won or lost.

Blaise Zabini, my one love, was my last victim.

**A/N: So, how'd I do? I know the plot was kind of hard to follow, but it was done intentionally. If you think about it, the story is from Luna's point of view, so I could not possibly have it be fluent in its ideas. Please leave a review, whether it be a flame or hug. I have calculated the possibilities of it being a flame, and I'm quite willing to take the risk. Currently, it is hanging around a 98% probability I will get a flame. Which I really don't mind. Thank you so much for reading!**


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